Cobra Star
by Yamino Tenshi 202
Summary: Sweethearts Week Prompt 4. America goes to England's house to relieve his of stress. He didn't expect him to be at a strip club. "You don't need strippers, Iggy. You got me." M for Oral, Stripping, Alcohol


10 February 2012 - 2:14 PM

Yay! Next prompt…

**11th: Holidaymaking** Because no one wants all work and no play, how about some rest and leisure. Anything that the boys might do in their off time is welcome here. Whether it's something big like an international vacation, or something small like sharing popcorn while watching tv on the couch, this is for what the boys do in their free time

Warnings: Alcohol, Nudity/Stripping, Sensual/Lap dancing, Oral Sex, Language

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><p>Cobra Star<p>

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><p>America sighed out in relief.<p>

"Thank God! I thought I would never get out of there." To his left, France chuckled.

"The meeting wasn't so bad. At least England wasn't there so that you would fight with him." America frowned at that. England fighting with him was always fun and distracted him from the boredom of older countries being all rigid and strict in the way they run meetings, like Germany.

"Whatever," he said, "he probably just got sick or something." He paused and then gasped at an awesome idea.

"I know, I'll go to his house and bring him some booze!" France sighed and smiled, knowing that the young super-nation wouldn't be dissuaded in the least when in came to England.

"All right, but take him some of my wine. He enjoys it at times."

"Will do!"

America smiled as he walked to England's house. That fancy tunnel that went from France to England was super-fast and then he got on a train to London, which was always fun, hearing those Brits and their awesome accents.

Outside, though, he saw that England wasn't at home. He frowned, but he then noticed a small card just by the welcome mat.

Picking it up and scanning it, he saw that it was a business card for a "Gentlemen's Club" in the city, on the other side of London actually.

Alfred shrugged; it was probably some prissy, stuffy, tea-drinking club.

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><p>Flashes of skin, brightly colored lights, and leather.<p>

Black leather, dollar bills, and nice bottles of European beer.

Beer, smoking tobacco, chewing tobacco, and wolf whistles in the air.

Alfred gulped as he looked around for England in the club.

Who knew that a "gentlemen's club" was a strip club?

Thank God he was 19 so he wouldn't get arrested for this.

"Hey, come here." He heard a distinctive voice and turned towards it.

England beckoned a girl, with beautiful bouncy breasts and blonde hair, to come towards him. Her breasts seemed to strain against the leather and her boots seemed to elongate her legs. She smiled and crawled towards the older nation as England grabbed a £10 note and slipped it into her underwear. She whispered a "thank you" and went off to continue dancing, England paying no mind as he drank his Cognac.

America walked over, seeing now that the Brit was still sober, but for how much longer?

"Hey, Arthur." England turned to him, annoyed.

"Alfred? What the hell are you doing here?" America smiled.

"I'm taking you home. I brought booze from the meeting at Francis's house." He held up his hand with a thumb in the typical "Let's go!" position. England stood up.

"Well, as long as you have booze…"

That was too easy. America smiled.

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><p>"Why were you at a strip club anyway?" America asked as he and England sat on the European's couch, both sipping away at the Burgundy Pinot Noir wine, having emptied the Champagne <em>vin de liqueur<em>.

"Just relaxing." England could taste the French-ness of the fermented grape.

"I'm not like you, America, who can just decide to relax whenever he wants. Some of us are actually busy." America frowned at that. All of the other nations just seemed to think he was stupid and carefree.

"I'm not like that! Besides, you don't need any stupid girls with plastic tits to relax!" His cheeks were pink from the alcohol getting to his head. Thank God, again, that countries couldn't get alcohol poisoning, so he wasn't really being held back by health issues.

"Heh. Are you saying that you could help me relax, America?" England smirked. His little colony was so sarky. He'd finally grown up and was talking as though he-

"Yeah, I can!" America abruptly stood up and pulled off his shirt one impulse.

"Whoa! Ameri-" England was cut off as the adolescent America came and pressed his lips against his. A spark went through them and England could almost swear – almost because of the alcohol – that America moaned as their tongues participated in an elaborate dance that the teenager was surprisingly good at.

America pulled away, not really giving England a moment to object, and began swivel his hips, getting onto his knees and pushing down his pants.

England's face burned.

"Why the hell are you taking of your trousers?"

"You don't need strippers, Iggy." Another kiss.

"You got me." He stepped out of his pants and began to hum, twirling his hips and dancing to his own made-up melody. His boxers were seeming a tad snug at this point.

England just watched. He saw the muscles tense and relax, constrict, contract. America's lips seemed pouty and plump, his tongue sweeping over them every once in a while. England's trousers seemed to tighten at the thought.

He lifted a hand and beckoned America to come closer.

The American did so and groaned as England pulled him close and brought a hand behind him to grope his ass.

The air seemed so thick, heavy.

England could feel the alcohol stepping in, making him truly immobile a bit later as America began to bob his head up and down between his legs.

America worked the other as best as he could, intoxication finally coming up.

"Come on, Arthur~" He purred.

"Come..."

England groaned, releasing his load and feeling his body go lax, his ears full of the sounds of America swallowing, leaving a kiss on his cheek, and the other saying,

"Didn't that relax you, Arthur?"

"Fuck you, Alfred."

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><p>10 February 2012 – 7:02 PM<p>

:) I hope my school doesn't keep the record of me looking up strip clubs on their computer. Heh heh...


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